A Singapore Sling

I'll allow my husband, Andy, one shot at being a guest columnist in this one

Song of Flower
Song of Flower
We are always ready to travel at the drop of a passport. The more exotic the destination, the better. So, accompanied by six heavy suitcases, my wife and I slung ourselves to the deep Pacific Rim for three days in Singapore before boarding Song of Flower for a Viet Nam cruise ending in Hong Kong.

From our home base near Philadelphia, Singapore is 180 degrees east or west, and since nobody flys straight over the North Pole, it didn't matter which way we went. We boarded the plane at 9:30 PM Thursday and, after a stop in Amsterdam Friday morning, arrived in Singapore on Saturday at 6 AM. If almost 19 hours in transit can be bearable, Singapore Airlines made it so. Endless, excellent food and endless, excellent movies on the TV screen in front of every seat. There was even enough leg room for 6'2" me. The Wife amused herself by listening to the movies in French while I flipped between movies and the GPS video to see -- and count -- the countries we were flying over.

The Singapore airport is one of the most beautiful in the world, but at 6 AM you would think you were back in the USA. Everything is in English, but Linguist Wife Person immediately began speaking Latin. Cattleya ... Dendrobium .... Phaleanopsis ... Paphiopedilum ... Vanda ... she was naming the varieties of orchids that are everywhere. Me, I went looking for an Internet Cafe to send e-mail to the house-sitting kid that we'd arrived safely and asking him to make sure the iron was turned off.

A FINE CITY

Downtown Singapore with Government Buildings to right.
Photo: Andy Hopkins
We immediately learned about Singapore's "Fine City" moniker when an extremely officious official gigged my wife for chewing gum. Her entire stash of Juicy Fruit was confiscated and a stern warning followed. Then there was the cigarette problem. We had purchased two cartons at the duty free shop at JFK. Another officious official offered to hold them for us until our return flight. No go. Our outbound flight was from Hong Kong. I was still typing, but International Ditz won the day. "OK, Sir, start the paperwork. I'll pay the duty." Bureaucrats must be the same all over the world. They hate paperwork. She promised we wouldn't smoke them until we boarded our ship and was told not to bring them next time.

Cigarettes and six suitcases safely with us, we left the terminal and were slapped by Singapore's sultry, tropical heat. Singapore is only two degrees north of the equator. Sunrise is at 6 AM and sunset at 6 PM year round (give or take a few minutes). As we boarded the motor coach to transfer to our hotel, International Ditz remarked, "I guess that was the International Terminal?" Singapore is a city-state. The only terminal they have is international. Don't try to tell that to a jet-lagged middle-aged woman. Just say "Yes, dear." (There are actually 4 airports in Singapore, but little air traffic between them.)

Like everything else in Singapore, the bus was almost obsessively clean. In addition to the driver, we had a guide aboard who was knowledgeable and charming. We passed huge high-rise developments, perfectly clean, that are almost towns unto themselves. Apartments, markets, schools and churches in self-contained packages. The guide explained more about the "Fine City" rules. No spitting. No putting your feet up in public transport. No "Singlish" -- a combination of Asian patois and English. No urinating in elevators. That part made sense. It was my first inkling that in order to have some things -- a beautifully clean and controlled city-state -- there are some other things that must be given up.

GOOD MORNING, SINGAPORE

We checked in at the Regent Hotel ... unprepossessing on the outside, understated luxury inside. We realized how early it was in Singapore when we scattered across the street to the Tanglin Mall to lay in supplies. We'd been warned by previous cruisers how expensive Singapore is in general and how expensive room service is at the Regent, in particular. The mall's grocery store wasn't yet opened so we window shopped. First customers in the store, my wife cruised off to inspect the goods. She swears that you can tell more about a city from a grocery store than anything else. I scored the Cokes, the tonic water and the peanuts. Rounding a corner, I found the liquor department and blessed International Ditz for the purchases at JFK. We hadn't thought to change money so a relatively small purchase zapped onto the American Express card.

The bus guide's suggestion was that we take a nap immediately. Not to happen, it was Friday night to us. Off to stroll Orchard Road, Singapore's high-rent shopping district where the malls are huge and the "streets" are air-conditioned. Here a Gap, there a Gap, everywhere a Gap. And a Burger King. And a KFC. And a Toys R Us. Reverse culture shock. Veering off, we walked through shaded residential neighborhoods where there seemed to be a park bench on every corner. Back to the Tanglin Mall to collect lunch from the food hawker court to take back to the hotel and enjoy with G&Ts. It was the Mad Dogs and Englishmen hour. Then we napped 'til dinner time.

GOOD EVENING, SINGAPORE

Ditz has an almost fanatical devotion to the Lonely Planet series of guide books. She announced that we would dine at the Satay Club. Sounded expensive, especially the "Club" part. "Don't worry," she said, "I've got it all figured out." My blood pressure went up several points when she said to the cab driver, "Raffles." Alighting from the cab I looked at the world-famous hotel and my blood pressure went up a bit more.I envisioned my wallet floating out of my pocket. She asked the turbaned cab starter, "How do we walk to the Quay?" Clark Quay, and its neighbor Boat Quay, is the cheap side of Singapore, if there is such a thing. She had it right. An entire street on the Quay is closed off every evening and enterprising satay chefs, known a Hawkers, set up their carts. Picnic tables appear out of nowhere at the end of the business day. That's the Satay Club. Others on our cruise paid well over $200 for dinner for two at the Hard Rock Cafe. We parted with something less than $30 for all the satay we could eat and were immersed in the city that is Singapore.

OFFICIAL SINGAPORE TOUR

The Obligatory Pagoda
Photo: Andy Hopkins
Next day, we had an official tour of the city as part of the pre-cruise experience. The public buildings, the soccer fields, Chinatown, the obligatory pagoda where we watched a wedding party, and the fabulous Hindu Temple. The seven-level temple pagoda, featuring cows among other creatures, must be seen to be believed. A service was underway when we arrived. Removing our shoes, we padded about trying to be respectful of the worshipers.Fortunately, it was not the festival of Thimithi, when the faithful walk, barefoot, over burning embers.

On for a drive-by of the official government buildings, behind which stands the gallows where, rumor has it, drug traffickers are summarily hanged. No appeals. A chilling thought.

We were cheered up by our first look at the Merlion, Singapore's official symbol. Next stop, the Botanic Gardens. Very Singapore. Not a leaf or a petal out of place. By now, The Wife was about toured out but there was more to come. A trip to the top of Mount Faber yielded cold Cokes and a chance to rest. After enduring the official shopping stop, it was back to the hotel and a swim.

ON OUR OWN

We had to do it, the essential pilgrimage.

"When in Singapore, feed at Raffles" -- Rudyard Kipling
We "Kippled" to Raffles' Long Bar for a Singapore Sling. At $15 each, we didn't stay for seconds. We wandered about, thinking what Singapore must have been like in colonial times. And what a Singapore Sling cost in Rudyard's days.

An orang heads for breakfast
Photo: Andy Hopkins
Next day, before boarding Song of Flower we escaped the disapproving looks of our official tour people and grabbed a cab to the zoo! After breakfast with the orangutans (watch out for your bananas!) we strolled the beautiful parks where there is no sense at all of the animals being confined. In a way, the zoo is a perfect metaphor for Singapore ... the appearance of great freedom but, at the same time, closely -- if not totally -- controlled. And then it was time to sail.